


Once

by codenamecynic



Series: It came from the tumblr-verse [29]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Regret, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codenamecynic/pseuds/codenamecynic
Summary: They all wanted her, even those of them that weren’t supposed to want anything.Zevran remembers the Warden after the Blight. (No on-screen death or violence)





	Once

Once, there was a girl.

That is to say – there have been many girls, over the years.  It’s part and parcel with the job; Zevran enjoys women, enjoys men, enjoys as much as he can, when he can, however he can.

Or did, at least.

There is a girl who lives in the back of his mind like a flower eternally frozen at the height of its bloom, soft and young and vibrant forever, exempt from wear and entropy and the endless drag of time. 

Beautiful, but cold with it. 

Maybe that was what drew him, a perverse moth to a flame that burned but never _burned._ He’s Antivan, he likes the heat, but Solona was always… different.

They all wanted her, even those of them that weren’t supposed to want anything.  Alistair picked her flowers and Leliana braided her hair, and Morrigan would stop and touch her cheek and call it sisterhood - even if Zevran would always suspect that it was another kind of sentiment entirely. 

Solona never encouraged it, was only ever as kind as she was tired, but at the end of the day the Warden Amell was just a girl in a bright, dangerous world, with a heart that never truly left the tower she once called home.

He has no doubt that she would have been entirely the same with him as well; she never made much of his flirtatious overtures, so it is unlikely that any credence would have been given to something less superficial, but…

He regrets, and regret is a thing so seldom that it weighs heavy on his heart.

Once there was a girl with long black hair, with soft hands and freckles across her nose and blue eyes that squinted in the light as though she’d been birthed in a library, a fragile, ephemeral whisper of a story never meant to leave the safety of a book. 

Once there was a girl who was brave and scared and sad, who put ill-fitting armor on over Circle robes like the shell of a clam closing over a pearl.

Once there was a girl who raised an army and climbed a tower to end a Blight, too determined, too compassionate, to even try to save herself.

Once there was a girl who died.

To this day he wishes that he’d kissed her.


End file.
